


Hit It and Quit It

by ardentaislinn



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Hook-Up, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-19 00:04:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13111416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentaislinn/pseuds/ardentaislinn
Summary: Eleanor just needs a man, any man, but a demon will have to do.





	Hit It and Quit It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SuburbanSun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuburbanSun/gifts).



“Janet?”

Janet appeared in a blink in Eleanor’s living room, her habitual smile stretched across her face. “How can I help you?”

Eleanor swayed slightly, trying to think how to phrase her request. “Is there anywhere I could...drink? That’s not my pathetically empty apartment?”

“What kind of drinking?”

“The completely shirtfaced kind? Blind, throw-up-in-the-back-of-the-taxi drunk?”

“Oh, a bar?”

“A bar! Yes, perfect.”

“No,” said Janet.

Eleanor deflated and threw herself back onto her couch. “There’s nowhere on this whole plane of existence where I can drink with anonymous people I don’t know? And pour my heart out to these anonymous people and then possibly, anonymously, take them home for some anonymous forking?”

Janet was still grinning at her, so Eleanor sighed and looked at the ceiling. She couldn’t stand Janet looking so happy in the face of her misery.

“I can create you a place?” Janet suggested.

Eleanor shook her head. “The people wouldn’t be real, would they?”

Janet shook her head. “No, they would not.”

“So, no one drinks around here? No one has sweaty sex with people in the alleyway behind a dive bar?”

“Well, there’s The Lounge.”

Eleanor sat up straight. “What’s ‘The Lounge’?” she asked excitedly.

“It’s where the demons go to socialise.”

Eleanor thought about that for half a second before deciding thinking was overrated.

“Take me there,” she demanded.

Janet computed this. “Okay!” she said brightly.

Eleanor was so shocked by Janet’s acquiescence that she stumbled when she immediately found herself in a velvet-covered smoking lounge. Janet was gone--clearly deciding the drop and ditch routine was good enough, and Eleanor wished for a second she’d put an exit strategy in place. But only for a second.

The place wasn’t as big as she’d expected--if she’d had time to expect anything--only about the size of a large living room. The walls, floors, and seats were all covered in a thick purple velvet. Women in cages danced above her, but also seemed to be on fire somehow. None of them appeared to be in pain, so Eleanor ignored them.

The clientele were sparsely dotted around the room in small groups. Mostly humanoid, but some species she didn’t recognise, including a man apparently made of lava. A couple of people sat at the bar, and they all appeared to be drinking alone, so Eleanor headed in that direction. As she did, she suddenly wished she’d come better prepared. Surely, Janet could have found her a slutty dress and some fuck-me heels.

Well, she’d work with what she had.

She slid into a stool two seats down from a dark-haired man, slumped over with his head on his folded arms. The bartender raised his eyebrows at her, but didn’t comment about the fact that she didn’t belong here.

She smiled. “Tequila please.”

“One shot or two?”

“Oh, the bottle. Don’t skimp on the salt and lemon, either.”

The bartender was clearly a professional, because he took her order without a hint of judgement on his face. Within seconds, a bottle of tequila was placed in front of her, along with a shot glass, a salt shaker, and a small bowl with lemon slices artfully arranged in a circle.

Eleanor sighed happily.

“Payment,” said the bartender.

Eleanor’s head shot up. “Um, payment?”

“This is a business. We don’t let people drink for free.”

Eleanor suddenly, fervently, missed The Good Place. Evil as it might be, she didn’t have to pay for her frozen yoghurts or that sexy lingerie she’d asked Janet to get her a week ago. The lingerie she’d forgotten to wear tonight.

Damn it.

“So, what kind of currency do you guys use here?” she asked, wondering if the demons in the room would eat her if she called for Janet. Or, worse, would _their_ Janet come instead? Eleanor didn’t know. She shuddered at the remembrance of the Bad Place Janet. It was almost enough to make her wish Janet and Michael hadn’t partially rebooted her back to the first version of herself, though she still remembered bits and pieces of the other times he’d wiped from her memory.

She looked at the bartender again. Why had she been so impulsive?

The bartender gave her an exasperated look. She eyed him. Not a bad looking guy. A bit meaty, maybe, but she could be into that. Given that she was specifically here to get some hot, anonymous sex, she’d be happy enough to do it in exchange for alcohol. It wouldn’t be her first time.

She leaned forward so the bar pressed her boobs up into an impressive cleavage. “Or, more accurately, what kind of payments do you accept?” she asked in her most sultry voice.

The bartender narrowed his eyes, and she could tell immediately he was going to refuse her blatant--and frankly better than he’d get under other circumstances--offer. She started running through potential plan Bs, most of which boiled down to “grab the tequila and run while calling for Janet”.

But the bartender didn’t get a chance to voice his refusal. Instead, a voice from the left said, “put it on my tab.” The bartender shrugged and turned away, apparently agreeing to the offer.

Eleanor swiveled on her chair, a huge smile on her face for her saviour. Only for it to fall away the instant she caught sight of the bleary-eyed man--demon--sitting two seats down.

Trevor.

Fuck.

Of all the people to run into, he was probably last on the list. Other than maybe that guy she...never mind.

She focused on Trevor. He was clearly drunk, which surprised her. Demons could get wasted? But the evidence was clear. Fuzzy eyes, slumped over so far he could barely be classed as upright, an almost-empty bottle of whiskey in front of him.

“You,” Eleanor said stupidly. At least he hadn’t turned her in yet, outed her as a non-demon.

“Me,” he said.

“Thanks for the tequila.” She poured a shot and knocked it back, ignoring the lemon and salt.

He shrugged. “Hot girls get drinks, that’s the rule.”

It _was_ the rule, but it had never annoyed her before now.

“Though you're not _that_ hot.” He said this as if his heart wasn't truly in the insult, unlike the gleeful insults he’d thrown her way before, but Eleanor's hackles still rose.

“I'm hotter than you'd ever get,” she retorted. Why had she said that? It sounded like a challenge. One he hopefully wouldn't pursue.

Alas, he lifted a brow. “You think? I've had some total babes in my time. Off the charts hot.”

Eleanor eyed him skeptically. “That sounds like a total lie.”

“Is not,” Trevor replied childishly.

“Prove it,” Eleanor pushed. She realised she was leaning forward, into his personal space. And a spark had lit inside her, one fueled by banter and a weird form of almost-flirting.

“I don't kiss and tell.”

“I bet you do, when there's something worth telling.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You're really not that hot.”

“Sure thing, jerkface.” It probably wasn't wise to antagonise a demon, but when had Eleanor ever been wise?

“So why are you here, then?” Trevor asked. “I thought you were all mind-wiped or whatever?”

Oh dear. Eleanor just realised she’d exposed Michael’s plan. If Trevor told…

But he didn’t look like he wanted to tell. He just looked drunk and mopey.

“I was. And then I wasn’t, and then my memories came back? Janet said something about us being wiped too many times, it messed with our brains and needed to be partially reset to the first go-around. I don’t really know, I was eating this new shrimp cocktail thing that was _amazing_ and stopped paying attention.”

Trevor nodded at this and sipped his drink. “So Michael’s really flailing down there, huh?”

“You tell anyone and I’ll kill you,” she said over the rim of her shot glass.

He gave her an amused look. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

“Could, too,” she sneered, then winced. She was sounding just as childish as he had. Clearly, he brought out the worst in her.

Why him? Why did it have to be him here tonight? As much as he’d saved her just now, he would totally ruin her plans to find some anonymous demon to assuage the frustrations that had been building in her ladybits for weeks.

Although…

She took another shot of tequila as she eyed him. He wasn’t that bad looking when he didn’t open his mouth.

She shook her head. The tequila couldn’t be getting to her that quickly, could it?

“Hey, Blondie,” Trevor said to get her attention, leaning over precariously and dropping his voice. “It’s nice not to drink alone.” He tilted his glass towards her in a slightly-mocking salute, splashing his drink over the sides.

Eleanor’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. She leaned forward, getting far closer to Trevor than she willing would have two shots ago.

“Why were you drinking alone? Where's your entourage?”

Trevor scoffed and leaned forward again. Too low, as it turned out. He stumbled off his chair and nearly faceplanted on the seat between them. He righted himself, then slid into the seat he’d headbutted seconds before.

Their knees brushed as he did. Eleanor’s head told her to move away, but clearly her body was operating on a different plan, because she stayed right where she was, the heat of his thigh pressing into hers.

“Well, you know that whole trick we pulled on you?” Trevor slurred.

“Where you pretended to be the devil who was going to take me to hell?” Eleanor paused for a second. “Wait, that was pretend, right? You’re not really the devil or whatever?”

She swallowed another shot of tequila, and Trevor watched it slide down her throat with hungry eyes.

Something tugged low in her belly. And that was when the logical part of her brain fled the scene.

“What was the question?” Trevor asked, snapping back to focus.

“You’re not really the devil, are you?”

He shook his head. “No,” he sighed. “It sure was fun playing the big boss, though.”

“I bet,”” Eleanor said, for want of anything better to say. The asshole had made her life hell, briefly. But he had nice hair and looked at her like he wanted to tear her clothes off and fuck her senseless. Since she was very much in favour of being fucked senseless right about now, Trevor was starting to look extremely attractive to her.

Besides, logic had already left the building, and impulsive, bad-choices making Eleanor was here for the night.

“I miss it,” Trevor said with a pout.

Eleanor tried to regain the thread of the conversation, not think about grabbing the lapels of Trevor’s shirt and tearing all the buttons off.

“I can imagine.”

“I mean, I was so _good_ at it, you know? You do know, you were completely fooled. Anyway, now I’m just... _Trevor_ again.” He made a face. “Trevor from Section C.”

Eleanor pressed her thigh more firmly against Trevor’s. “Uh huh.”

“And I was fine with Trevor from Section C,” he continued, apparently not noticing her seduction hints. “But then I got a taste of having some power. And I _liked_ it.”

Eleanor nodded, leaning further into his personal space. “Power can be _seductive_ ,” she said, whispering the last word on a throaty murmur.

“Yeah,” he sighed, oblivious. “And now all my friends think I got too big for my boots, as the kids say, getting a big role like that. I mean, they all wanted it, and now they’re just jealous.”

“Is that why you’re here alone tonight?” She licked her lips as he glanced her way.

His gaze followed the movement. “But I’m not alone,” he said.

Her stomach fluttered, her breath caught. And suddenly, terribly, sex was sitting between them like a last slice of pizza. Should they be polite and ignore it? Go solo on it? Or share it?

Eleanor’s lady parts were telling her to go for it. She’d had way worse hookups when she’d been way less drunk than this.

But the logical part of her brain made one final, last-ditch effort to talk some sense into her, reminding her what a colossal jerk Trevor had been to her.

Then again, he did seem like a different man now. Still full of himself, but now maybe whinier and less focused on making her miserable. Those were both traits she could work with.

“No, you’re not alone.”

He grinned. “Of course, it had to be you, not one of the _way hotter_ chicks I’ve had in the past.”

And just like that Eleanor changed her mind. “Oh fuck off,” she said, delighting in being able to say _fuck_ again. She got up from her stool, a little wobblier than she’d anticipated, and strode away. She was just debating where and how to call Janet when a hand grabbed her arm.

He spun her around, and Eleanor’s breath caught at the forceful gesture. Ugh, she hated herself right now.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and Eleanor hated him--and herself--slightly less. _Trevor_ was _apologising?_ Would wonders never cease. “Force of habit,” he continued.

“Hmmmm,” Eleanor said, narrowing her eyes. She glanced around. They were in a small alcove, only partially visible to the rest of the room. The lighting was darker here. More intimate.

“So, are we going to do this or not?”

Eleanor eyed him. She really wished he didn’t look like, well, _that_ , or this would make her decision a whole lot easier. But Eleanor was the queen of bad decisions, and that hadn’t changed since she’d died. If she wanted to get herself laid, this was pretty much her best option, as sucky as it was.

And at least it wasn’t, like, Big Bad Trevor. This was normal-demon Trevor, who was at least slightly less obnoxious, though no less hot.

“Yes, fine. We’re doing this.”

“Yes,” Trevor hissed, falling just short of a fist pump. Eleanor wondered, suddenly, if Trevor was actually a nerd-demon. Shit, that would explain a lot.

“Well, let’s get it over with before I change my mind,” she said. “And, for the record, I expect at least one orgasm, since that’s what I’m here for.” She held up her finger to punctuate her point. “Got it?”

Trevor nodded looking a little intimidated. Perfect.

He took her arm and led her through a door and then another one. Eleanor found herself in an opulent bathroom, complete with marble countertops and shiny fixtures.

“Man, The Bad Place is so much nicer than The Good Place. That seems wrong somehow.”

She turned to face Trevor, who shrugged. “We built it, we get to decide what it’s like. Besides, this is just the employees section. Where you’d go is way different.”

“Right,” she said. They stared at each other for a long moment.

Then, Trevor reached up and grabbed her boobs. Eleanor almost laughed. Of course he’d go straight there, with no build up or foreplay. But she was embarrassed to admit that she was so hard up that even this was working for her.

Need tugged deep in her belly. Eleanor eyed Trevor, her last chance to back away from this hovering just within reach.

_Fuck it_.

Eleanor grabbed Trevor by the front of his shirt and hauled him towards her. She fused their mouths together in a surprisingly hot kiss. _This_ is what she’d wanted, what she’d _needed_.

Trevor’s hands left her breasts and seconds later clamped over her ass. He was growing hard against her, so she tilted her hips, rubbing herself against him.

He groaned low in his throat and Eleanor responded by pressing herself even closer. She’d been horny when she’d walked into the bar, but now it was like a dam had broken. She needed him inside her immediately, assuaging the ache that had hit her with the force of a tidal wave.

She spun them, and Trevor took the hint, lifting her ass up onto the bathroom counter. The cool marble contrasted pleasantly with her overheated skin even through her jeans. She wrapped her legs around Trevor’s hips and kissed him harder.

His hands left her ass and slid up her back, under her shirt. She shivered at the touch. He unhooked her bar, then slipped his hands around the front to latch onto her breasts again.

Eleanor’s hips rolled involuntarily, rubbing her core against his hard length. She tore her mouth from his with a gasp.

“So, you’re a breast man, huh?”

“Fuck yeah.”

The word _fuck_ spilling from his lips sounded deliciously dirty, causing another tug deep in her belly. She couldn’t wait much longer.

She dived for his belt, unhooking it with hurried, clumsy fingers.

“Woah, don’t you want foreplay or something?”

“Do you want to give me foreplay?” she asked, chest heaving as she unbuttoned him. In her experience most men weren’t that interested in it and weren’t particularly good at it, either. Trevor did not seem the type of man that had bothered to learn.

He tilted his head. “Nah.”

“Then just get in me.” She was ready, she could feel it. She’d been ready all night.

Trevor didn’t question the order. He just let her shove his pants down, freeing his cock. It was long and hard and exactly what she wanted.

Trevor unbuttoned her jeans and lifted her to tug them off. His display of strength just made her even more hot for him.

When they were finally free, Trevor gripped her hips and positioned himself. He pulled her to the edge of the counter and she locked her ankles behind him. His stare was hungry as he looked down where they were almost joined.

“Wait,” she said urgently. His hands tightened on her hips, but he didn’t move back, just narrowed his eyes at her. Did he think she was going to back out now when she was so close to what she wanted?

“Condom,” she grit out.

He stared at her intently, and Eleanor’s core clenched. “You’re dead,” he said.

“So?” she asked, frustrated and feeling more than a little desperate. “I don’t know where you’ve been.”

He held her stare for a long moment, and then shrugged. “You have a point.” He crouched, keeping one hand on her hip, and tugged into the back pocket of his jeans where they’d pooled on the floor.

He stood, brandishing a condom.

“You had that the whole time, and you dared to give me shit?” she asked.

He gave her a charmingly unrepentant look and she rolled her eyes.

“Just get it on and let’s do this,” she mumbled.

He rolled it on and returned to his earlier position at her entrance. Their eyes locked, and all the breath left her in a rush. He paused there a moment, drawing it out until she felt almost mad with anticipation.

Then, finally, he pushed into her.

He filled her, hot and hard, exactly what she’d been craving. Her head fell back and her legs tightened drawing him deeper into her.

He pulled back, and thrust. Eleanor could already feel her orgasm building. She’d been on edge for so long that the slightest touch made her burn.

“You’ve been very naughty, Eleanor, coming here, for _this_.” The words made her throb. He thrust again, slamming against her so hard she gasped.

“Yes,” she said, not denying it. The word drew out on a hiss as he thrust again.

He held her gaze. “You--”

Eleanor tightened her core around him and he broke off whatever he was about to say with a choked groan. She grinned in triumph.

“Less talking,” she said.

Their eyes met again, and the intensity caused her skin to prickle all over. Her orgasm was in reach. Just a few more thrusts, and she’d finally be there. He obliged her unspoken command, holding her hips still as he pounded into her. Her breath was coming in panting gasps now and she tightened her hands on the marble counter.

Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, slamming through her whole body from her hair to her toes.

Her mind blacked out for a second, overcome. But she came to when Trevor increased the pace of his thrusts until he pushed into her one last time and came on a long groan.

They stayed joined together for a long moment, his head on her shoulder, their chests heaving as they slowly came back to themselves. After a moment, the reality of the situation began to creep back into Eleanor’s brain as logic belatedly returned. She pushed at Trevor’s shoulder and he gave a deep sigh.

He pulled out of her and stepped back. Eleanor dressed without looking at him once. He, too, seemed to feel the awkwardness, because he hovered away from her, a stiff vibe coming from him.

When she had the last of her clothes on and had fixed her hair in the bathroom mirror, Eleanor had finally run out of excuses.

“If I call my Janet, can she come get me?” she asked softly.

“Yeah,” he replied.

Eleanor called for Janet and the woman appeared out of nowhere. “How can I help?”

Eleanor hesitated. “Actually, just wait there for a bit.”

She turned to Trevor, who looked at her warily. She smiled.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely.

The breath left him in a rush, and he seemed relieved. “You’re welcome,” he replied, also seeming to mean it. “Anytime.”

She nodded, feeling brighter than she had in a while. Before he said anything to ruin the moment, Eleanor turned to Janet. “Take me home.”

Within the blink of an eye, Eleanor was back home in her apartment. She was glad she’d taken the risk and asked Janet to take her to The Lounge. It had gotten her exactly what she’d needed for so long.

And if Trevor meant his final words? Well, Eleanor figured this may very well become a regular occurence.

She, strangely, couldn’t wait.


End file.
